


pale skin and points to prove

by orphan_account



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty Pageant, Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M, Modeling, Sequel, Skincare-based plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:39:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22930588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Charles hops off the plane at LAX with his dreams and a Fenty x Puma long sleeved crop top paired with gratuitously baggy matching track pants. He’s gripping Daniel’s arm, because some things never change.Daniel and Charles have retired from the beauty pageant scene and Daniel has big plans: namely, LA. However, when the city of angels is too much for them, they have to call in backup—their former rivals.PLEASE NOTE: this is on permanent hiatus, because I won't be writing Carlos in major roles for the foreseeable future.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Daniel Ricciardo, Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz Jr
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	pale skin and points to prove

Charles lowers his Ray-Bans and levels a look at Daniel. 

“I said I would do anything with you, but I did not have this in mind.”

Daniel doesn’t take his shades off, just crosses his ankles on the poolside deck chair and grins. “Come on now, Strawberry Shortcake, you’re a free woman now. I’ve been coaching almost a decade and I’m too old to start on anyone else.” Charles would swat Daniel’s arm if the man was in reach, but he’s not. “It’s time to start new, boo. Let’s try LA.”

Charles squints into the painful sunlight, only amplified by its reflection in the artificially blue swimming pool water. They’re poolside on the roof of some hotel he’s already forgotten the name of, but the strawberry sangria is good. He sighs, because he’s already made up his mind to agree. “Let’s try LA.”

“Alrighty. We’ll do some research, talk to the money, take a month to sort out the branding and the bullshit, then let’s—”

“—get out of this god-damned hellhole,” Charles chants quietly. He slips his sunglasses back on and takes a long sip of his drink. Daniel’s predictability is endearing. 

* * *

Charles hops off the plane at LAX with his dreams and a Fenty x Puma long sleeved crop top paired with gratuitously baggy matching track pants. He’s gripping Daniel’s arm, because some things never change. But Daniel’s not carrying the makeup kits anymore.

The duo are almost a year past Miss Europe 2020, and Miss Universe came and went as well. Charles took home a second runner-up sash, but it’s not hanging on the wall with his others anymore. They’ve all been carefully packed into a cabinet in Daniel’s apartment—they moved in when Charles did. 

Charles doesn’t know if the newly-clarified relationship has been a distraction, or made him softer, but at the end of the day, he truly didn’t mind seeing Miss Thailand take home the crown. 

He’s just been aimless since then.

So has Daniel. Neither of them discussed what would come next, and Charles slunk back to classes and completed the last round of university exams to finally take home his degree. He did most of his studying on Daniel’s couch, draped across his partner and bashing out mediocre papers on the Macbook he hadn’t touched enough in the last four years. It hurt his neck, but Daniel would kiss the top of his head sometimes when he was stuck on a particularly warped concept, and offer frighteningly unhelpful suggestions for a man with a BCom. And Charles would snort but tip his head back for a proper kiss, and then after convocation, Daniel hung the degree on the wall while Charles proceeded to forget everything he learned. 

Daniel didn’t talk about coaching anyone else, and Charles didn’t ask about it. The silence should have been a clue that some idea was in the works, though, somewhere in between the blogging, working out, cooking, and kissing Charles that Daniel has been doing. He waited until vacation to pop the question. 

Not  _ that  _ question, but probably one that was more important.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, Charlie boy,” he said lazily, setting down his drink. Charles hummed an acknowledgement. Daniel waited a second. “You probably want to know what about.” 

Charles hummed again. 

“Let’s go to LA, baby. We’ll start a skincare and makeup brand together, you can be the face. We’ll start low-key. Get disruptive. Get important. Expand to New York and then London. How about that?”

“A lifestyle beauty brand?”

Daniel nodded, and on his face was a shit-eating grin.

“California?”

“California, babe.”

Charles lowered his Ray-Bans and leveled a look at Daniel.

* * *

Living in LA isn’t a problem for a modestly loaded couple used to a Monegasque price of living. Establishing a beauty brand startup, however, is a problem. 

They've been in LA a month, and in that time they've already attended three birthday parties for the infant children of fellow influencers. "Making connections, baby," Daniel chants under his breath in the Uber on the way there, every time. Daniel makes connections. Charles looks soulful and posts boomerangs to his story.

They’re living and working in a bare-brick-wall artist loft, because Daniel says that’s better for the creative juices, but one month in Charles realises maybe he has no creative juices, and Daniel snaps and throws an artisanal organic linen throw pillow at the bare brick wall. 

“What?” Charles asks.

“The mojo’s not here,” Daniel declares, picking up the pillow and dusting it off. He hurls it back onto the couch, but it bounces off the tightly overstuffed cushions onto the floor. They both just look at it. “The only way we’re going to get by is with a little help from our friends.” He pulls out his phone.

“I don’t  _ have _ friends,” Charles interjects. “I don’t ‘do’ friendship.” Air quotes around the word.

“Oh, believe me, I know that, Captain Crunch,” Daniel shoots back. “I haven’t spent the last five years with you for nothing.” He scrolls endlessly through his phone and Charles can only imagine him sorting through his stupid endless contact list, of all the friends and connections this man has. Charles knows how to loop his arm around another girl’s waist and how to tag her in the ensuing instagram photo. He doesn’t know how to go back to them two years later and say hello. 

However, Daniel was always magic. “Dear lord,” he announces two minutes later, “I’ve got them.”

“Who?”

Daniel beams. “He’s going to tell me to fuck right off.” He hits the call button.

* * *

“You have a lot of nerve to call us and ask for that now.”

Charles is sure Daniel’s grin can be heard over the phone. “I don’t talk about my balls so much for nothing. Come  _ on, _ mate, it’s LA.”

“You know what? You can fuck right off.” Carlos hangs up and drops his phone on the granite countertop. He turns to Lando, who’s peeking from the dining room, not even pretending he’s not listening in. “How do you feel about LA?”

“Los Angeles?”

“We are leaving as soon as I can call my mum and get plane tickets,” Carlos announces, already picking up his phone again.

“What do I  _ pack?” _

“Everything.”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> not exactly a long-awaited sequel, but it was itching to be written so what can I say
> 
> keep it lowkey, keep it classy, keep it off twitter and out of real life and away from the drivers.
> 
> thanks for reading and for any comments!


End file.
